Hello there! So I'd say this collection and chapter are pretty self-explanatory. I'll start off by posting my old version of Warriors of the Void, which was a Percy Jackson AU story . It's one I'll probably refer to a lot in some of my one-shots, most notably in Efflorescence, so I thought I'd leave this up if people wanted some context for the plot and characterization.
I'm also hoping to include some in-depth explanations of some plot details, my old plans for this story (plus some for the trilogy I initially hoped to write), and a few hints I tried to give at certain things because I spent an extremely long time planning it out, and I thought I might as well share some stuff from my thought process with you guys. Anyhow, here's the prologue—I snuck in some hints about the child's parentage in this part. The first real explanatory note will be posted with chapter 1.
And here's the summary I had:
A second Titan War approaches. A disaster-stricken world is foreseen if the Titans prevail, and the Creator decides it's time to step in as the gods childishly ignore all the warnings. With his life force quickly waning, he trains a group of children: the Warriors of the Void. They spend their entire childhood in school and training before they're finally sent to Earth. There, it's the beginning of a new adventure for the young Guardians—amid lies, deceit, and some budding romances, their skills and friendships are put to the test.
The anguished cries of a mother and father faded into silence, as their newborn child was taken away from them, vanishing off the face of the Earth.
The baby's own wails, however, were seldom heard, as this was a very special child. Serene, yet powerful. A strong aura emitted from the small wad of fabric that contained the infant.
This child, already showing signs of rapid growth, was destined to protect, or to destroy. And the Creator would not allow for the boy's fate to become the latter.
This is the only way, the Creator told himself. The best way.
Should the boy remain on Earth and become corrupted by his relatives, or have his mind tampered with by evil—
No. The Creator looked at the small child in his arms, eyes wide open and staring right back at him. He smiled, cooing at the toddler. No, the boy would do great things. He would be a protector.
A guardian.
One of many, the Creator thought.
He knew what the Moirai had seen. There was not yet a prophecy issued from any Oracle, but another grueling war had been weaved into the threads of fate—a second Titanomachy, a dystopian society should the Titans prevail.
The Lord of the Titans was slowly reforming, gathering monsters and half-blood followers. Yet the stubborn gods of Olympus paid no attention to the rising threat, lazily sending their untrained demigod children on life-threatening missions to do their bidding. Few survived their quests.
And with the knowledge that all primordials would fall into deep slumber when the war began, the Creator feared that the gods alone could not win the war.
Though his direct interference was only bound to worsen things. And perhaps it was better that the primordials would not meddle in the war.
On the other hand, the Creator himself was fading. His strength and power were being sapped; his previously youthful form beginning to age and wither; he predicted that he still had a decade or two.
So he'd formulated a plan. Perhaps not his best, but it would have to be enough. There wasn't much time, and the plan gave him hope.
Hope, found in the most ironic of places—the mortals.
Surely, with his blessing, they could train to be warriors and ensure the gods' victory.
The Creator had already set his eyes on certain humans. Newborns, of course, who would have been orphaned otherwise. He had no wish to remove any from their families.
Besides the ones that he had already taken.
He sighed, gently placing the boy he held into a crib. In doing so, he caught a glimpse of a pair of flailing arms from the boy. He allowed himself to chuckle lightly, tickling the boy's tiny fingers with his own.
"Such a beautiful child."
The Creator turned abruptly, shoulders relaxing as he saw the speaker.
"Very much so," he remarked.
"And yet he holds so much power."
The Creator simply nodded grimly.
The room swirled with tendrils of darkness coiled around rays of light. Their movement seemed to slow around the young man standing at the door, whose eyes were speckled with gold. Near the Creator, however, the nebulous ribbons clung to his cloak like a child clung to their mother.
"Go, Lucas," the Creator spoke suddenly. "I will join you in a few moments."
The young man straightened. "Yes, my lord." Then he left, leaving the Creator with the boy in the crib.
"I'm sorry for doing this," the Creator murmured. The little boy giggled at his words, seemingly unaffected by the ominous tone of his voice.
He placed his hand on the boy's forehead. It's better this way. He muttered an incantation, and the child went silent.
Beads of sweat formed on the Creator's forehead. He grimaced ever so slightly, feeling the golden liquid that coursed through the boy's veins turn to red.
The child let out a small whimper when the transformation was complete.
"I'm sorry," the Creator whispered. "You will be safer this way."
He took a deep breath and began another enchantment. Searching for the boy's essence, he gathered it all, carefully forcing it into the boy's soul, where it would be locked safely.
"For you to unleash, once you are prepared," he muttered, finishing the enchantment.
As soon as the words left his mouth, he wheezed, more sweat dripping down his face. He grabbed the edge of the crib with his free hands to stabilize his wobbly knees.
He realized just how weak he'd become. This magic should not have tired him at all.
Pushing away his nagging thoughts, the Creator gazed inside the crib.
The boy's eyes were closed, and he laid still. His chest rose evenly as he slept. The Creator could only hope that the boy's peace would last long enough; he wanted the boy to enjoy childhood, after all.
Exhaling deeply, he steeled himself for a final spell. It's safer if he doesn't know.